


Cake Rate

by connorssock



Series: Prompt Fills [15]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gavin Reed, Dumb Ways To Deviate, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, M/M, Stress Baking, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: Gavin the GV200 is a stress baker. Following a recipe is the same as fulfilling mission objectives and helps lower is software instability levels. Of course Nines had to ask what happens if he lets the levels rise to 100%.





	1. Chapter 1

There were a few mysteries that were all but lore. Nobody questioned why the third shelf of the fridge only ever had half a carton of orange juice on it. Even when moved or binned, it was back by the next day. It was a fact of life that every third day the printer in the corner would spew out a page and a half of gibberish. Never the same but not even androids could hack what the message was supposed to be. Another mystery was the basket of fresh pastry which appeared each morning in the breakroom. Nobody knew where they came from and after so long, nobody even questioned it. It was just a fact of life at the DPD that freshly baked goods appeared and the more stressful a situation or day, the higher the quantities the following day.

Truth be told, it wasn’t quite a mystery to everyone. If Connor had bothered to visit Nines more, he’d have found his cupboards full of flour, sugar, yeast, cinnamon and there were boxes and boxes of eggs in his fridge.

It had all started off as a bit of a scare. The case had been a nightmare, GV200 had been assigned as bait and it worked almost too well. It was only in the nick of time that the teams had gotten into position and Nines had been helpless to do anything but watch as Connor’s partner Hank, an HK800, hauled Gavin out of the way of a spray of bullets. Back at the precinct, the humans were debriefed, given time off and rewarded for a job well done. The androids were sent back to work immediately. Of course Connor had demanded that Hank be allowed home with him and made up some kind of excuse about the temptation of over working. Nines had returned home and actively avoided thinking about how red the LED on Gavin’s temple had been.

The unusual noises had woken Nines. He’d grabbed his gun and padded towards the kitchen were it was pitch black. Only a soft red glow gave away the nature of the intruder and rather than robbing him, they seemed intent on making a mess of his kitchen instead.

“Do you not have any butter you heathen?” The voice mumbling was obviously Gavin and Nines relaxed a little.

“Try the top shelf at the back, you might not be able to reach it without jumping,” he called and watched as Gavin froze. Switching on the lights, Nines walked into the kitchen and got the butter down without asking. He’d learnt that if Gavin wanted to share information with him, it had to come unprompted. True to form, Gavin didn’t say much. He made a two batches of cupcake and was gone by the morning.

The next night he was back, even brought his own supplies to make a simple sponge cake. Nines sat up with him, backs against the cupboards as they watched the cake slowly rise and spill over the edges of the tin.

“I think I got the wrong sized tin,” Gavin shrugged.His LED still flickered red but there were hints of yellow in there now. “I never expected baking would reduce software instability and stress levels.”

That was the crux of it. Nines sat and waited a little more until Gavin let out a whirring sigh.

“I shouldn’t have broken in. I heard Tina talking about baking relaxing her and thought it was worth a shot. The last couple of cases knocked up software instability high enough for me to get desperate.”

Nines looked over at Gavin and hummed. Wordlessly, he got up and walked to the sideboard. Rummaging around in it, he smiled triumphantly as he palmed a key.

“Here,” he offered it to Gavin, “so you don’t break in any more.”

The next night, when Gavin turned up, the cupboards were full of everything he could have dreamt of and there was a brand new mixer on the counter. In the morning, the bullpen had the scent of croissants wafting through much to everyone’s delight.

Cinnamon swirls followed by pain au chocolates. Each morning, Nines had one set aside with a glass of milk, ready and still warm for when he woke up. It became a habit of sorts, Nines stopped waking up to Gavin puttering around in his kitchen, comfortable in the knowledge that all was okay. On more difficult cases, Gavin’s baking became more extravagant and much more copious. Some days people took some of the baked goods home for their families.

“Following the recipe is soothing. It’s an order that is easy to obey and helps my systems recalibrate,” Gavin explained as Nines helped him tie a “kiss the chef” apron around his waist.

It had seemed fair enough, Nines couldn’t blame Gavin for trying to find something, anything to help him manage the stress their jobs induced.

“What would happen if you didn’t reduce the levels?”

“High stress levels and I’d self destruct. I don’t know about software instability. The drive to lower them is too strong for me to disobey.”

Life went on, Nines kept bulk buying everything Gavin needed for his baking. Some days it was cupcakes, other times intricate twists carefully decorated with icing.

“Do you never get curious what would happen if you ignored the software instability warning?” he asked one night. Gavin was kneading something intently with a small frown creasing between his brows and only grunted in reply. Nines dropped the matter but wasn’t surprised when he found Gavin sitting on the edge of his bed a few nights later, LED red but he wasn’t even trying to bake.

“Gav?” Nines murmured half asleep.

“Software instability 72% and rising.”

Unthinking, Nines scooted over and lifted the cover. Gavin took the invitation and curled into Nines’ chest, body quivering.

“76%.”

“It’s okay. You change your mind at any point, we’re going out there and making profiteroles all night, no judgement.”

Gavin nodded and wrapped his arms around Nines, “83%.” There was a whimper barely bitten back and Nines began to rub his back.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

There was no denying to soft sob as Gavin bit out a shaky ‘90′. His LED was a solid red with an occasional blip into nothing. Nines chose not to mention it, Gavin probably already knew, his whole body was tense and far too warm yet when Nines tried to kick the cover off, they were grabbed and pulled up around their ears.

“I’m scared, Nines.”

“I know. You’ll be alright. Just ride through it. Tell me what’s going on,” voice low, Nines kept trying to sooth him.

“It’s all red. Not just my LED casting the light. We’re surrounded and the walls are screaming so loud. I can’t block them out. It’s 98% Nines!”

In a bid to help, Nines kissed Gavin’s forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, even through his eyelids he could see when the red LED suddenly went out and Gavin’s body fell lax in his arms. Silence reigned in the bedroom. From the stillness of it all, it was easy to feel the small twitches as Gavin rebooted, blinked back into awareness and pulled his head from where it had been tucked under Nines’ chin.

“How are you feeling?” was the first thing Nines could think to ask.

“It’s gone,” there was marvel in Gavin’s voice, “no more mission objectives, no more software instability. I feel-” He broke off with a wide smile. “I feel free!”

Gavin sat up with a delighted laugh and looked around the room as though he was seeing it for the first time. He bounced out of the bed and pressed a lightning quick kiss to Nines’ cheek with a muttered ‘thank you’.

In the morning, along with Nines’ favourite maple and pecan twist, Gavin was sat on the counter, swinging his legs. It was all too easy to slip between them and steal a morning kiss before getting ready for work. The pastries still appeared with just as much frequency at the precinct but they were no longer labours of need. And sometimes a few of them were a little misshapen. Those, Nines looked particularly proud of. Nobody had to know whether he was the one who made them or was responsible for driving the maker to distraction enough to ensure the pastries were a little less than perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a Saturday afternoon, one of the rare ones Nines had off. Crime didn’t stick to a schedule so things like weekends were a thing of legends. He took days off when he was scheduled, the day itself rarely mattered. Still, having a Saturday off was a curious affair. The city was so much busier; there was no point in going out, even if he had wanted something. But, Nines was organised, he had already bought everything he could possibly need for when Gavin came over.

Sure enough, there was a courtesy knock on the door before Gavin was letting himself in with a small grin. He had a bag swinging loosely from a hand.

“What’s this I hear about the world famous Mama Stern cookies’ recipe being given out for a limited time only?” he greeted.

“I will show you once and only once. If you so much as breathe a word about it to someone outside the family, I will personally set Connor on you and he’ll decommission you.”

“Or I could bribe him with cookies,” Gavin shot back.

“Or that.”

With a small flourish, Gavin dumped his bag on the counter and sauntered closer to Nines, eyes flitting from his eyes to his lips hungrily. He was rewarded with a kiss and hand in his. All too soon, Nines was pulling away and gesturing at the counter.

“We should get started.” Gavin immediately went for the now familiar cupboards to get the ingredients but a polite cough stopped him in his tracks. “Everything in the kitchen begins the same,” Nines intoned, “washing your hands.”

Grumbling, Gavin walked over to the sink and got his hands wet before shaking them and wiping them on his trousers. The look Nines gave him had him huffing out a breath and returning to do it properly. Once done, Nines washed his hands too.

“You’re not seriously going to bake in black slacks and a black turtleneck, are you?” Gavin eyed Nines up and down, eyes lingering on his bare forearms where the sleeves had been rolled up.

Rather than reply, Nines started getting the ingredients out of the cupboard.

“Grab the non-salted butter from the fridge please. Along with a box of eggs.”

They got everything out and Gavin watched with wide eyes as Nines reached for a mug at the back of the shelf.

“I could weigh things out,” Gavin offered. Usually, he picked everything up and could gauge a weight from letting the ingredients sit in his palm. However, Nines smiled and shook his head.

“We’ll use the cup.”

Sure enough, everything was weighed out in proportions. Nines had no clue how much of anything he was really using. It made Gavin fairly certain that if he hadn’t already been a deviant, the stress of watching Nines measure things out so arbitrarily would have been enough to send him over the edge. Instead, he mimicked Nines’ motions perfectly, the demonstration unneeded but it seemed to relax Nines, going through the motions before letting Gavin get on with it.

Nines was so intent on watching what Gavin was up to that he completely missed the sneaky looks sent his way. A scheme was definitely being cooked up but it was time to roll the dough out and that was something Nines insisted on doing.

“The dough can get very sticky; we’ll need to dust the surface with flour as well as the rolling-pin. But put too much down and you end up with a crumbly dough.”

Gallantly, Gavin stepped away from the work surface but not before taking a handful of flour and sprinkling it on the surface. He had been baking a lot more and definitely more intensely than Nines had so he knew how to flour dust for rolling out dough. However, he gave Nines the illusion of being in charge.

The change also allowed him to pat Nines on the chest with an insincere ‘oops’ as a white floury handprint decorated the black turtleneck.

“Now it’s just asymmetrical and that just won’t do.” Before Nines could complain, Gavin dusted flour onto his other hand and put a matching mark on the other side of Nines’ chest. It made Nines turn towards him, eyes narrowed in mock ire and rolling-pin raised threateningly.

“Do that again and I won’t show you the cookie cutters I got just for you.”

Smirking, Gavin stood on tiptoes behind Nines and hooked his chin over his shoulder. The two handed grab of his backside was utterly unnecessary but worth it.

It made Nines shake his head with a resigned “honestly” and a chuckle. Once the dough was rolled out thin, he placed the rolling-pin to the side and spun to face Gavin, pulling him into a kiss. The greasy hand on Gavin’s cheek was fair payback all things considered.

“Go look in the box on the side,” Nines urged him. For the first time in his life, Gavin was happy to obey.

The box in question looked innocuous enough. Just a Tupperware one which rattled ominously as it was picked up. Opening it, Gavin blinked before he grinned at Nines. There were cookie cutters in a multitude of shapes. It went without saying that Gavin pulled out the cat head shaped one and clutched it to his chest.

“Grab me the triceratops one,” Nines laughed and took the offered cookie cutter when Gavin reappeared at his side.

Silently, they set about cutting shapes, laying them carefully on a lined baking tray. Their shoulders bumped and at times Gavin looked up and admired his handprints on Nines’ chest with a snicker.

It didn’t escape Nines’ attention and he very artfully rubbed his hands in Gavin’s hair, partly out of affection, partly in revenge. By the time they had only a small amount of dough left that wasn’t enough for either of their shapes, Gavin knew he was in dire need of a good scrub. He wouldn’t have had it any differently as he watched Nines shamelessly pop the last bit of dough in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

“Not bad,” he mused to Gavin, “for a first attempt.”

It made Gavin bark out a laugh and he grabbed a bit of flour off the counter and threw it at Nines.

“Careful.” Nines took the baking tray to the oven. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to force me to take my top off.”

“What if I was?”

“That was always the second rule. Always be fully clothed in the kitchen.”

“No!” Gavin gawped. “Really? There had to be a rule for that?”

The sad smile Nines shot him was full of hidden mirth. “Connor had strange ideas as a child. He wasn’t exactly fond of clothes.”

That drew another laugh out of Gavin as he tried to imagine Connor as a child with a dislike for clothes. Perhaps Hank was going to encourage such a trait to re-emerge. Though that wasn’t something Gavin wanted to think too much about actually. He hopped up onto the counter, swinging his legs.

“Set a time for 12 minutes, would you?” Nines asked him.

“What am I? Your personal alarm clock?” Despite the teasing, Gavin dutifully set the timer from the moment the oven door shut.

He watched Nines approach, slide between his legs and his eyes drifted up to Gavin’s hair. A hand reached up and plucked a bit of dough.

“Don’t eat that!” Gavin reflexively reached for Nines’ hand.

“I wasn’t going to.” The look that was shot at him as the dough was flicked to the still dirty work surface was puzzled. It was ruined a little by the smear of dough on Nines’ cheek and tip of his nose. A contemplative hum left Nines as he leaned closer. “You’re trapped. For the next 12 minutes I have you at my mercy.”

He leaned closer and closer, angled his head until his breath coasted over Gavin’s lips.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?”

Rather than reply, Gavin closed the gap between them and ran his still dirty hands up Nines’ back, pulling him in. The timer in the corner of his vision told him they had less than 11 minutes rather than the 12 Nines had promised, but all that meant was that he’d have to make them even more memorable.

By the time the timer hit zero, there were smears of grease and dough across Nines’ abdomen and back where Gavin had slipped hands under his top, they were both a little short of breath and Gavin had a new appreciation for what cookie dough tasted like when stolen from Nines’ lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted as a prompt fill over on tumblr to @dumbwaystodeviate.


End file.
